SNOW-DROP. 
Their father’s home, so free from care, 
And the familiar faces there: 
The household voices, kind and sweet, 
That knew no feigning — hush’d and gone 
The mother that was sure to greet 
Their coming with a welcome tone; 
The brothers, that were children then. 
Now anxious, thoughtful, toiling men; 
And the kind sisters, whose glad mirth 
Was like a sunshine on the earth ; — 
These come back to the heart supine, 
Flower of our youth ! at look of thine; 
And thou, among the dimm’d and gone, 
Art an unalter’d thing alone ! 
Unchanged, unchanged the very flower 
That grew in Eden droopingly, 
Which now, beside the peasant’s door 
Awakes his merry children’s glee, 
E’en as it fill’d his heart with joy, 
Beside his mother’s door — a boy : 
The same, and to his heart it brings 
The freshness of those vanish’d springs. 
Bloom, then, fair flower ! in sun and shade, 
For deep thought in thy cup is laid, 
And careless children, in their glee, 
A sacred memory make of thee. 
